


Long Night

by coldfireheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Panic Attacks, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfireheart/pseuds/coldfireheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader/Bucky fic wherein reader is struggling with nightmares and panic attacks following the death of their best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I'll be totally honest. I wrote this one solely for myself. I lost my best friend a few years ago and the past week or so I've been really really struggling with some feelings surrounding that. I also have dove head first into the Marvel fandom and I am head-over-heels in love with Bucky Barnes so I wrote this to make myself feel better. I also kinda like it. So I guess I'll share it. Please excuse any typing errors or grammar mistakes, it's like 2am. Sorry if this is bad.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked wildly around the dark of your bedroom for a moment. Panting and sweating, you sat up, body shaking roughly. The nightmares hadn’t eased up in the slightest, even though all the doctors said they would. It had been three months and you still woke up almost every night. Sometimes there were tears, still fresh on your face. Others, your chest was so tight you had to wheeze to catch each breath. And tonight it was one of the worst you’d had in a while. Everything was too loud, too rough. The sheets felt like sand paper on your skin, and the darkness felt like it was pressing in on you, pushing all of the air out of your lungs until ever breath was a searing pain that burned its way through your chest and out into your arms.  
And his voice still rang out in your ears. His last words. Help me.  
You had been working with the Avengers for a little over a year when it happened. You were out on a patrol mission. Nothing too intense. Your best friend was with you. You’d both joined SHEILD at the same time. You rose through the ranks together, trained together, and spent many nights complaining and venting together. Together. It was the only way you knew how to do things.   
The two of you were scouting a heavily wooded area, somewhere that was suspected to be concealing a Hydra base. The others were scattered about as well, monitoring the situation. But action wasn’t part of the plan today, since you had so little information to work with. In and out. That’s what they told you.  
Everything had happened so quickly. The gun fire rang out of nowhere and before you could even move you felt the fire lick through your shoulder and around your arm. The world went fuzzy around you and you were thrown forward by the force of the bullet. Landing hard, you pushed your heavy limbs into motion. You were vaguely aware of the action around you. Shouting and more gunfire, the sound of struggles and fighting barely reached your ears. And as you turned your head, you saw him. He was staring at your from several feet away, eyes wide and glassy. He barely rasped out his last two words before his entire body went lax. Blood trickled down through his shirt and you saw the seven or eight bullet holes that riddled his back.  
The memories after that were fuzzy and jumbled. You could remember screaming until you tasted blood. Flexing your hands and using your powers, you struck out blindly, dizzied by fear and pain and rage. You vaguely remember feeling the neck of a nearby Hydra agent snap under the force of your hands. Then a strong pair of arms was wrapping around you from behind. Steve did his best to reign you in as you thrashed, but blood loss and shock quickly did most of the work for him. You woke up two days later in the medical ward of the Avengers Tower. Tony had been the one to retell you of what happened. You barely reacted. Only stood numbly at the off-white in front of you.  
Being forced back to the present moment by the feeling of tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you slowly reached up your hand to feel the rough circle of scar tissue on your right shoulder. Where they had to cut the bullet out of you.  
Your breathing was hard and heavy as you forced yourself up and stumbled out of the room. It was too small, too dark. Moving down the hallway, you eventually found yourself standing in on the common areas. Your legs were shaking too hard and you dropped heavily on the leather chair. You let your head fall into your hands and you tried to stave off the panic attack that was building in your chest. You were so tense, that you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a husky voice across the room.  
“Y/n?” In the dim light of the room, you could see Bucky standing in the door way. “Are you okay?” He took a couple slow steps towards you, hands open in front of him, as if to show he meant you no harm.   
You briefly considered lying but given that you were visibly shaking, that didn’t seem to make much sense. So you just shook your head once, staring at your feet. Bucky carefully came closer, watching you. He moved slowly, calculated. Kneeling before you, he put a gentle hand on your knee.   
After everything that had happened, you’d found a sort of unspoken connection with Bucky. He seemed to be the only one who truly understood the things you were feeling. But maybe that wasn’t it. Tony knew what anxiety and panic was like, and of course Steve knew what it was like to have someone ripped away like that. But with Bucky there was no pressure. No need to fill the silence with useless platitudes about how things were going to get better. With Buck, he just… let you be sad. He let you mourn but he didn’t leave you to deal with it alone.   
You barely moved, only lifted your head a tiny amount to look up at him. His gray eyes were filled with concern.  
“Talk to me.” He barely whispered. “What can I do?”  
You tried to answer, you really did. But no words would come. No air would move through your lungs. The shaking that was already wracking your body increased and you felt like your entire chest was going to cave in.  
“Y/n, stay with me, okay? Try to breathe. Please.” Bucky’s voice sounded like it came from far away. Like you were underwater. You could feel choked sobs forcing their way from your chest as you tugged at the collar of your shirt, suddenly too tight. Breathing had become damn near impossible. Terror washed over you in waves and you barely registered Bucky stand. With hands gently on your shoulders, he did his best to still you and speak slow and soft, eyes directly in front of you.  
“Y/n, just try to breathe. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you, I promise. It’s a panic attack. It isn’t real. You’re okay.” His voice came out quiet but slowly became clearer as you gulped for each breath. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks in messy lines; Bucky gently used a thumb to wipe them away.  
It took you a good five minutes before you were finally able to speak, your voice coming out in a weak croak. “Jesus, Bucky. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” You ran a shaking hand down your face, embarrassed at how easily you’d come undone.   
“Hey…” he caught your hand as you moved to lower it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been through hell, physically, emotionally, everything. You’re healing.” He offered you a warm smile; even in the darkness the kindness was radiant on his face.   
You sat, still shivering, silently for a little while, feeling weak and exhausted. Bucky slowly knelt down again, lightly rubbing your arms, frowning a little. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly after a few more moments of silence. You only offered a weak shrug in response.   
Head hung and eyes closed, you felt rather than saw Bucky stand up again. Gentle but firm hands wrapped around your arms and carefully lifted you to your feet. Muscles tense, you tried to push away as the last dredges of you panic tried to kick back up, but exhaustion was quickly winning out and the warmth of his body close to yours was strangely comforting.  
“Shh… you’re okay. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Bucky whispered soothingly, keeping a steady arm around your waste. Taking small steps, he led you the short distance across the room to the plush couch against the opposite wall. Your body felt clumsy and heavy and you dropped onto the cushions and you slowly curled up to lay on your side.   
Frowning, Bucky carefully draped a nearby throw blanket over you. He stood and watched over you for a minute before you broke the thick silence.  
“Will you stay?” your voice was barely over a whisper and for a second you wondered if he had even heard you. In the darkness you could make out his silhouette nod.   
“Give me just a second, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”   
You nodded quietly and he turned and quickly walked out of the room. Tugging the blanket tighter around yourself, you were partially convinced that he wasn’t going to be coming back at all. But after a few minutes of silence, you heard footsteps returning down the hall. Bucky reappeared in the doorway. He had changed into a plain t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and he was carrying a pillow and an extra blanket.  
As he approached you slowly scooted to make room for him. Your body felt sluggish and full of sand, too heavy to move with any sort of grace.   
Carefully, Bucky draped the second blanket over and crawled on the couch behind you, molding himself around you. You felt your eyes droop a little as you were lulled by the heat of his body. His flesh arm was carefully resting over your midsection while the metal one was tucked under the pillows, cradling your head.   
The silence carried on comfortably for a few minutes before either of you spoke. Bucky’s voice broke the air, gentle and soft. “It’s okay to miss him. He loved you, you know.” His words slowly worked their way into your fog riddled brain and you registered a dull ache in your chest. Tears stung at your eyes again and slowly bled over into your cheeks. Only now, rather than sobbing in terror as you had only a short time ago, you wept silently, grief rolling over you in waves. Bucky tightened his arm around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.   
“Just let it out… It’s okay.” He whispered against your skin, keeping you close against him. You shivered as silently cries tried to push out of your chest, hands twisted into the blankets.   
It took a while, but you eventually were able to bring your breathing back down to a normal level. Bucky continued to whisper sweet words, rubbing you side gently. Your body sagged into the couch as your exhaustion took over again.  
“Rest now…” you barely heard him whisper, pressing another feather light kiss against your cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.” You nodded weakly, pressing yourself against him. He held you tight until you drifted off into a deep sleep. And for the first time in months, you didn’t wake up until the sun broke through the windows.


End file.
